


fotos y recuerdos

by mochis



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Historical, Historical References, Inspired by Real Events, america/mexico is very slight, i love suffering™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 11:37:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8843221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochis/pseuds/mochis
Summary: Mexico is young and paying off one of the world’s worst debts when she meets her, and is with her when she is ripped from the world too early.





	

**Author's Note:**

> do ya'll remember the monologue from the selena movie where her father was saying how tough it is being mexican-american because we have to impress both mexicans and white people well that's my favorite monologue in the history of time forever and ever.  
> 
> 
> mexico's name is ana maria, and she is more or less my oc because for some reason it's been more than ten years and himaruya has yet to give us latin american countries.

Mexico is young and paying off one of the world’s worst debts when she meets her. 

Her visit to America’s place was meant to be short and exclusively for a meeting to discuss economic matters, but somehow the blonde had persuaded her to go along with him to a nearby carnival in the state of Texas. He knew her well enough to know she hadn't been sleeping or eating because of her bosses’ less than kind paperwork, and Texas was practically their “shared custody child”— as Alfred constantly puts it— which she hadn’t visited in quite a while. 

The carnival is fun enough; cotton candy is shared and Alfred manages to win over three stuffed animals. Just as they were about to get in line for the ferries wheel, Ana Maria hears music that hits close to home, and for a moment she isn't surprised because they're in  _ Texas,  _ after all, and much of her own culture is infused with the southern states but her feet take over and she's following the tune to a stage. A rather large crowd is gathered before it and people are dancing to the bouncy beat that is  _ cumbia,  _ herself almost included before she catches a glimpse of the young woman on stage. 

“Who is she?” Ana Maria asks Alfred over the music. 

“No idea,” he has to shout back as the crowd begins singing along. “But she’s  _ really  _ good, don’t you think?”

Ana Maria nods, grinning because the woman’s energy is contagious and Alfred’s hand is in hers, pulling her to dance. He knows the basics of  _ cumbia  _ from her and his people in the southern states, appreciates the music because of the immigrants that take up more and more of Texas and California. 

When the performance is over and the carnival is about to close, she seeks the woman out backstage. A tour bus is parked near the stage, a few feet away from the carousel, and it is there she sees her talking to an older man— her manager, she guesses. He is angry, using his hands to emphasize it with his eyes narrowed. She listens before saying something back, storming off in the opposite direction of the bus towards the carousel. Mexico sees this as her chance and catches up to her after a few moments, keeping a polite distance as she says, “Your performance was really good.” 

She looks up from where she is leaning on the railing to the carousel, and now that Ana Maria was closer she could see her full lips and slender nose. “Oh— thank you. Thank you!” She shakes her head, her short hair bouncing. “I’m sorry, I just had an argument with my dad. Well, manager.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Ana Maria offers a sympathetic smile in return. “I think I saw a little of that.”

“He’s giving me a hard time over this bustier.” She gestures towards the clothing hugging her chest. Ana Maria stifles a laugh. “Madonna wears stuff like this, right? I’m just trying to appeal to the audience!” 

She does laugh at that, but in good nature. “I think it looks great. Though, if I were a parent I think I’d understand where your father’s coming from.”

The woman smiles in agreement. “He’ll get over it eventually,” She holds out her hand, “I’m Selena. My band is called  _ Los Dinos.”  _

“Ana Maria,” The brunette grins back because she finally learns her name and commits it to memory. “I’ll buy tickets to your next gig. Not many women do  _ tejano. _ ”

“That’s what my dad says, too. But I  _ know _ we’ll make it big, just wait!” 

They laugh because her voice is loud and her spirit is uncomparable, and after a few more minutes of talking they promise to keep in touch. 

Ana Maria doesn’t tell her outright that she is the personification of the country of Mexico. 

Not many people know who she is, and the reason is simple— the more people she knew just means the more people she would eventually outlive. Yet she does not think about outliving Selena, one of the strongest voices she’s heard in very long time. They continue to keep in touch through letters and the occasional talk on the telephone, but with the amount of money that Mexico had been losing it was tough to keep up with her in the states. Just as she was overcoming an economic crisis, she is invited by Alfred and Selena separately to visit the  _ Tejano  _ Music Awards in San Antonio, Texas. 

Alfred comes to know the singer as well, through different talk in the south and Ana Maria’s constant gushing (“I’m not  _ gushing,  _ I’m  _ explaining.” _ ). They meet at the music awards after Selena’s performance and her victory of female vocalist of the year, emotions running high and smiles big. It is then that they reveal who they are in terms of countries, and are met with wide eyes and a flurry of questions ranging from “How old  _ are _ you?” to “How do you do it, exactly?” Not too long afterwards Mexico learns Selena is signed to a record label through a letter, to which she replies with the question of touring in Mexico. Her question is met with much enthusiasm and possibility, but her manager is skeptical. 

“He’s worried because I don’t speak spanish,” the young woman clarifies, and Ana Maria frowns as she holds the phone to her ear. “He was going on about how Mexican-Americans have it twice as hard because we ‘have to prove how mexican we are and how american we are’.”

“Well...” she winces at her father’s words, understanding them much more than Selena does. “Tell him Mexico can teach you how to speak spanish. Literally.” 

Selena laughs, then begins telling her about a boy she had begun developing feelings for. Ana listens with interest.

News of her elopement comes after she is coming back from Washington D.C. after a meeting with her two northern neighbors. Canada is not familiar with the performer, and thus opts to leave Alfred and Ana Maria to visit Texas once again as her third album is being released. It topples many male  _ Tejano  _ groups’ albums that year, peaking in America’s Billboard charts and finally leaping into Mexican charts. A press tour is planned soon after that, along with several more performances throughout her country, and she is surprised when Selena demands Ana Maria to be by her side during the interviews. 

“They love you,” She reassures her.  _ “Como La Flor  _ has completely stolen their hearts, Selena.” 

“They think I speak spanish!” Selena’s laughing, but holding onto Ana Maria’s hand  _ so _ tight. 

“ _ Use _ that!” 

The Grammy’s come and go, and just as she predicts, Selena walks up to accept the award for best Mexican/American Album of the year, all smiles and crocodile tears. Both countries are thanked indirectly in her speech, grouped with her friends and family and before they even recognize it they’re wiping away their tears with the back of their hands, giggling because who  _ knew  _ that girl from a Texas carnival would be on stage with a golden Grammy in her hand?

Mexico manages to talk her into expanding her boutiques to a few states of her own, and mentions one of her southern island neighbors. Negotiations are being talked after seeing how well her first two boutiques were being managed by the leader of her fan club. Another album is released, this one landing number three in America’s charts and becoming number one in her country’s charts, earning her title of “Queen of  _ Tejano” _ . The queen leaves for a tour in the south, below Ana’s borders and comes back lively and motivated to begin her crossover album with the north. 

Mexico is there to listen to Selena’s english tracks, reporting excitedly to Alfred when he visits her. “Her crossover album will top your charts, you know. I can feel it!”

“Even more than what she’s already done?” He smiles as they get ready for another sold out concert in one of his southern cities. 

“Even  _ more _ than what she’s already done.” 

The Astrodome is completely full, overflowing with cheers and chants and banners of the singer’s name. Selena is dressed in glitter and maroon, looking like royalty as she waltzes on stage belting out covers of songs before jumping into her own material. Their spots are relatively close as the queen makes sure that they are there, hand in hand and dancing to her music. As if they would even  _ think _ to miss it, not with a crowd so big and a venue so good. 

Afterwards, Selena is sweating and breathing hard. The gem-studded jacket she came on stage with was in her arms, hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. They meet her backstage with words of praise and excited talk of her crossover album. 

The next time Ana meets with her, she is irritated and disappointed with her president. The queen is worried about something, and Mexico can see it by the way her face seems heavier and her eyes lack their sparkle, but she smiles anyway, chatting about the possible boutiques in her states and in her neighbor’s states. Ana doesn’t pry.

She gets the call in the early hours of the morning. Her hands are trembling when she dials Alfred, who doesn’t even say “good-bye” before he hangs up, leaving for Texas right afterwards. Ana Maria cancels three meeting that day, then immediately heads north to meet Selena’s family at the hospital. She doesn’t let herself think of the worst case scenario, instead focusing on the soles of her shoes as the plane takes off a few hours after the call. 

The country is tired, running on four hours of sleep from the night before but she paces outside of the operation room biting her nails down to the nub. Alfred had gotten there a few hours before her and is almost as tired as she is but manages to keep a bright face despite the odds, though his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. 

They had heard what happened from the queen’s father. The bullet severed an artery in her lower shoulder, and they both knew the blood loss would be unaccountable. Ana Maria had stopped pacing minutes ago, instead sitting next to Alfred outside the operation room with interlocked hands. 

“She won’t make it.” Her voice is raspy and her throat throbs.

“You don’t know that,” She’s seen him cry very few times, and the waver in his voice throws her off. “You know her. She’s tough. You helped her get tough.”

“Being tough won’t make up for blood loss, Alfred,” she wipes her eyes with the back of her free hand. “I should have asked her if something was wrong. I should have written her. Called her. Or never gotten close to her in the first place.”

The blonde shakes his head, his breath shaky. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. Blaming yourself won’t help, either.” 

They’re silent for a few moments until Ana suddenly starts laughing, softly at first before bubbling out. It’s an effort not to let her laughter melt into a sob. “Do you remember - remember when she first made it to the top charts? I’d never heard her so excited.” 

Her laughter surprises him, but Alfred lets a smile grow onto his face. “She was so proud.  _ Especially  _ at the Grammy’s.” 

“We were crying when she mentioned us! My makeup was running and you had snot on your face.” 

“But she looked so perfect on stage. Like a - like a flower.”

_ “Como la flor.”  _

They’re not crying anymore and they keep talking, remembering everything she had ever done. Every concert, every dance, every outfit. Every smile, every wink, every laugh. 

When the surgeon delivers the news, they don’t demand to see her. 

Ana Maria doesn’t go back to her country until after the funeral. She wants to stay in Texas a bit longer to attend the trial, but her bosses are demanding for her return and she eventually gives in to their nagging. Alfred sees her off at the airport after a tight hug, promising to report the news of the trial as soon as he finds out. 

Years pass and the pain dulls for the both of them, along with the rest of the countries who came to love the queen. It is early in the 2000’s when the two northern countries visit Texas again, late in the evening and looking to blow off some steam from a recent world meeting. A carnival is obviously their first choice - the popcorn a little too salty and the cotton candy dissolving too quickly in their mouths but it is the most fun they’ve had since 1995. 

Mexico half expects to hear Selena’s voice in the air like she heard several years earlier, but shakes it off when she hears the familiar beat of  _ cumbia  _ instead. Alfred pulls her to dance like all those years ago and her heart doesn’t feel so heavy anymore. 

**Author's Note:**

> \- mexico was paying off a debt due to an earthquake in 1985, which is around when she meets her.  
> \- in 1992, mexico's president meets with george H.W. bush and the prime minister of canada to sign the north american free trade agreement.  
> \- the president of mexico is forced into exile due to accusations of corruption in the same year.  
> if you haven't heard the beauty that is selena i highly recommend giving her music a listen, even if it's just the english tracks!! ☆


End file.
